Parinama

  We don’t choose life.   Life chooses us. It can seem as if we are in charge, through the hundreds of choices we make each day, thousands over a lifetime, for what happens to us.   That through these choices we steer our lives in a certain direction.   If we make “good” choices our life go well.   If we make “bad” choices our lives don’t go so well.   Our culture and economy surely emphasize this with messages, urges, and admonishment to take control in order to make more money, become more beautiful, secure perfect and sustaining health and spirituality.   We see the catastrophes others face at the border, in the hurricanes, on the front lines but still strongly believe that by making the right choices, better ones, we can avoid disaster and be happy.  If you take some time to consider what brought you to where you are now, however, you may realize that rather than choosing life, the life you are living has chosen you. ...

      September swimming so precious.   Only for the hardy.   The water is cold and thicker, all the summer heat pulled out of it. It is like swimming through molasses but softer.   I am often the only one there when I go in the evening the sun setting earlier and earlier the sky a wash of grey and purple.   There may be a lone kayaker or another like me who comes for ablutions.   Why else would you swim when it is so cold?     Only a few more chances before it gets too cold. These last swims stir me into awe like a visit to a European cathedral with its soaring arches, candle lite naves, marble statues of angels and Jesus.   This is the place where prayers are offered, and we are blessed by holy water.   The crickets are singing now and some of the oaks and maples are turning red.   There is the sweet musty fragrance of ferns, brush, and leaves softening into a damp mash. The chipmunks and squirr...

  Beauty is not glamour John O’Donahue, On Beauty   There was so much beauty in the prayer circle.   More than eighty of us gathered virtually to chant, read poems, offer prayers to our yoga teacher whose husband is very ill.   As I sat heartbroken for them, I watched the sky outside my yoga room turning orange and mauve.   I wept at the preciousness of life and the incomprehensibility of death and final goodbyes.    And then the evening after, at the lake, there was so much beauty in the smooth dark water gliding over my skin like a lover’s touch.   Beneath surface, it was much colder.   Diving under I felt a tingling delight after a very hot day.     We are taught by our culture, especially as women, that beauty is about how we look on the surface, about being the right shape, color, and texture. Beauty we are told is our currency for power, love, happiness, security which is why we should by this crea...